


Family Man, Stan

by themorgue



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bonding, Family, Gen, Minecraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26973706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorgue/pseuds/themorgue
Summary: It's not that he wasn't comfortable with people, he is, it's after a while, they offer no substance and they're bound to leave. It was his choice to stay alone, and he is fine with it staying that way. It's when two men find themselves in the middle of his farm on their knees, asking for assistance, does he see things are getting interesting quick.Let's not mention how he almost murdered them on the spot, mind you, we're trying to make friends here.
Kudos: 53





	Family Man, Stan

**Author's Note:**

> If you think a d&d au is in order, look no further, I am attempting to do so.

The sun's rays beats down on his back, leaving him no comfort in this uncomfortable heat. Though as he wipes his brow, leaning against the hoe he had been raking through the soil, he's not unwelcome to it. It's been a few hours since he's started his work, having been up since before the sun itself.

The sun means his crops will grow and despite being a solo adventurer, he can certainly see to it that they'll grow well.

If anyone took a glance at him, they wouldn't see the man he is. All they'd see is a lone farmer, dedicated to his work. Not the man he's seen as on the Wanted boards posted around the local towns.

He didn't mind them, the posters.

It's not like they can actually arrest him, with solid proof he committed a crime, and it's not as if they can find him.

The corner of his lips tug as he looks at the edges of his farm, a slight glint bounces into his eyes. A soft sigh flows through him ad he pushes on; his defense is the invisibility bind on this land. So long as no magic-wielder passes by, a normal citizen will pass by and wouldn't be able to see the acres upon acres of his hard work.

Hours later, he locks up the enchanted tools in his shed with a silent charm, he notices the hateful sun had almost disappeared in the horizon. The cool chill blows over the land, blanketing over the man himself, he smiles.

Until he sees torches heading out of the distant gate. Waving a hand, he magnifies his sight to see in the dark, stalking towards the edge of his land. What he sees isn't surprising, adventurers leave almost every hour, nothing to celebrate. But today had been a special day for this city, if he remembered right, celebrating the rebirth of their god. Typically on a day like this, green flags fly on all kinds of poles and houses, and nobody leaves.

Typically.

These two are clearly from the North, dressed warmer than the sun itself, and heading towards his land. Reaching into his pocket, he grips a chilling hilt and slides it out as he presses down on the encrusted jewel. Whispers follow a blade sliding out of the jewelled hilt, slightly glowing and shining even in the darkness.

Keeping low to the ground, he stares through his crumbling stone wall, watching with steady eyes as these adventurers are approaching his land unknowingly.

"It'll be easier if we cut across this field here," the one dressed in striped robes spoke to the other, pointing at the invisible farm.

The other one stops in his tracks, looking visibly unnerved, seeing a projection he had charmed along with the invisibility bind. "This one? I think it'd be easier if we just head back into town and stayed the night.."

As the non-stripes made the move turn, the hidden man himself ready to turn in his weapons, until the striped robes' reaches out to pull his partner back with a warning glance. "With what money, Wilbur? Remember what happened today?"

He steels his guard in the shadows, his experienced hands, almost twitching to swing. He watches with care.

"Maybe we can ask a local to-"

"I am NOT spending another night in that town, Wilbur."


End file.
